A keresés eredménye oldal 2

Songs for Those Who Love Each Other

So many melodies mark our way
And without them the world be worse off today
 
Modern or old-fashioned, they all make us dream
Und each one of us keeps them hidden in our hearts
 
Songs for those who love each other
Old songs with everlasting words
Songs that remember and that come back when love is gone
 
Songs for those who love each other
New songs with words of lovers
Songs that are always faithful and remind us of happy days
 
We can redo everything, change the world
Live without borders, we'll sing
Forget history, believe, not believe anymore
Things will stay the same in our memories
 
Songs for those who love each other
Songs that remember and that people wait for
One day, sing the same one and it'll turn into
The anthem of peace from now on, from now on
 

Those whom love hurt

Like some people who came back from war
Like some people who came back from the front
They have the fear in the eyes
They have the wrinkle at the front
Like some young old people
They walk with the back bent
They do a little pity
They do a little pity
 
Those whom love
Those whom love
Those whom love hurt
 
Like some people who came back from war
Like some people who came back from afar
To the one who makes nothing
They shout, they shout for having air
I made love, I did, sir
As if they were proud
As if they were happy
 
Those whom love
Those whom love
Those whom love hurt
 
Like some people who came back from war
Like some people who came back from their home
They find the fire extinguished
We don't expect them
In front of the cold ashes
Like some dogs, without crying
They lick their wounds
They treat their past
 
Those whom love
Those whom love
Those whom love hurt
 
Like some people who came back from war
Like some people who came back from love
They swear, this is the last (time)
For good, forever
They must put away the weapons
They must dry up the tears
They want to die in peace
And that we give them peace.
 
Those whom love
Those whom love
Those whom love killed, killed
 

The Ones Dreaming

My sleepless nights aren't white1,
Scarcely scattered of stars.
Little holes in the watertight canvas,
Sad strata on the cloak.
And I, bewitched of darkness,
I spend infinite hours
Counting funeral sheep
Which upholster my insomnia.
 
Ah, midnight is there.
Ah, I'm not sleeping.
And less I sleep and more I'm thinking,
and more I'm thinking and less I forget.
Vast impasse, immense space
Which extend at the end of my bed.
All these silences are unheard-of,
How this boredom is immense2.
Should I resort to the science ?
Anaesthetise insomnia ?
 
Ah, midnight is there.
Ah, I'm not sleeping.
And past midnight I'm dancing
At the tachycardia3 pace
And everything got carried away and everything is swinging
And I'm spread by everything and I'm fled by everything.
Moon is a little rancid fruit,
Life is a sickness.
The ones dreaming are at least lucky,
And the others got sleeplessness.
The ones dreaming are at least lucky,
And the others got insomnia.
The ones dreaming are at least lucky,
And the others got insomnia.
 
Ah, midnight is there.
Ah, I'm not sleeping.
Ah, midnight is there.
Ah, I'm not sleeping.
I'm not sleeping.
I'm not sleeping.
I'm not sleeping.
I'm not sleeping.
 
I'm not sleeping.
 

• 1. Literally, this line means 'my white nights aren't white', it is a pun in french, so 'nuit blanche' is translated by 'sleepless night' (but lit. 'white night')
• 2. In french, 'cosmique' is a literary term which means also in french 'immense'
• 3. Excessively fast heartbeat

Lullaby For The Naughty

Die asshole, you eat shit, you damned piece of shit,
Mentally ill, I will get you stabbed
You deserve to get hit by a car or a cement truck
Die asshole, you are a pedophile, you eat toads
You smell like oil, you sniff mops
You lick garbages, I would nail your tongue to your forehead and make you say pineapple
Die asshole, I will stuff you and shoot you
I will tell everyone that like fuchsia
You deserve that I tear off both eyes and I pass them in my grinder
Die asshole, I will send my dog to piss on your grave
I will go unearth you just to watch you rot
I will fill your grave with dangerous trash and set it on fire
Die asshole
You are a damned piece of shit, ugly, you smell like shit
You walk like a duck, you do not express yourself well
Your clothes aren't even nice, and your moms ass is large like a bus
Die asshole
 

Don't Forget Me (Lullaby)

Don't forget me.
I have to go.
Don't forget me.
You don't have to cry.
 
Even when I'm very far away from you,
You stay in my heart.
I secretly sing every night
So that you no longer are afraid.
 
Don't forget me.
It's with regret that I leave.
Don't forget me
When you hear the sound of a guitar.
 
You can't see me,
Yet I'm very near to you.
Whenever I sing, you're in my arms.
Don't forget me.
 

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Cradle song for baby

Night falls,
comes down onto your eyes,
onto your ideal[f]lit: blue dreams of a little child.
Night takes you
to the wonderful land,
where your ideal dreams lead you
and hand in hand
lets go softly, both of us,
to where all is so fair and so gentle.
It's in the arms,
just next to the heart,
that affection finds its beginning,
comes to me.
Forget your fears
so that your nights will be sweeter.
We all need a star
to forget the place where light is.
 
Translations in this website are protected by copyright law. Copying and publishing on other websites or in other media, even with the source link, is normally not allowed without a written permission of the author. But my translations can be published, except for commercial purposes, anywhere provided that my name is cited as translator - subject of course to the rights of the author of the original (untranslated) lyrics being fully observed.

Ogdr23 - My gaze is blue like the sky

My gaze is blue like the sky
It is peaceful like water in the Sun.
It's that way, blue and tranquil,
Because it doesn't interrogate or shock . . .
 
If I interrogated or shocked myself
New flowers wouldn't be born in the meadows
And nothing would change in the Sun in any way to become more beautiful . . .
(Even if new flowers were to be born in the meadow
And if the Sun changed to be more beautiful,
I would feel less flowers in the meadow
And would believe the Sun to be more ugly . . .
Because everything that is is as it is,
And I accept, and I am not even thankful,
For not appearing like I think about that . . . )